


Under the Table

by Domina_Justicia



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, NSFW, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Shameless Smut, Under The Table Kink, Voyeurism, so much sin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:46:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26335117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Domina_Justicia/pseuds/Domina_Justicia
Summary: There are certain things large, mahogany desks certainly weren't intended to be used for...
Relationships: Cait/Female Sole Survivor
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	Under the Table

“You wanted to see me, Cait?” Danse’s voice rumbled from the doorway of Brock’s makeshift office in Sanctuary Hills. Cait was seated at Brock’s large mahogany desk, her new automatic shotgun that Brock bought her for her birthday in pieces on the desktop. The Irishwoman looked up with a small tug at the corner of her lips, her fingers busy with cleaning and reassembling the parts of her most treasured weapon. There was a look on the redhead’s face that Danse couldn’t quite place, but somehow it reminded him of the look Elder Maxson sometimes had while dining in the mess hall.

“I was wondering if ya wanted to go kill some shamblers tomorrow. Ya feel up to it, tin man?” she asked, her voice oddly strained. Danse’s thick eyebrows furrowed as he gazed down at her, detecting her slightly rigid body and twitching fingers.

“Absolutely.” He replied nonetheless, watching her reassemble the loading chamber. “Cait, you are doing that incorrectly. If you attempted to fire that weapon without reassembling it in the correct fashion, it could have disastrous effects.”

“Well then, show me how ya do it, Danse-y boy.”

Cait crossed her arms against her chest and leaned back slightly in her chair, her freckled collar an odd shade of pink. With a slight frown, Danse ignored her remark and proceeded to walk her through it step by step and pretended not to notice when her body jerked every so often and that her hands were almost constantly squeezed into tight fists. _Chems_ , he figured. _I may have to inform Brock that Cait has had a relapse_.

He sighed to himself internally, disappointed in the redhead’s lack of self-control when it came to addictive substances and her apparent lack of regard for what such a relapse would do to her relationship with the woman she claimed to love. He’ll be dammed if he tried to bring it up with the redhead though, would probably have about as much luck as a Brahmin would with a starving Deathclaw.

Once the shotgun had been correctly reassembled, he placed it before Cait who appeared even more distracted than before. She had her eyes closed and was biting her bottom lip. “Cait, you are behaving oddly. Is something the matter?” Danse asked, but was met with the shake of her head and a shuddering sigh.

“No. I’m fine. Can’t believe I screwed it up that much, is all. I’ll meet ya tomorrow.” She replied curtly. Nodding, Danse took his leave and wondered to himself why he always feels as though he’s missing something when it comes to interacting with people outside the Brotherhood of Steel. “Close the door behind ya will ya, Danse-y boy?”

Once the door closed behind the walking tin can, Cait let out a long shaky groan with her head thrown back and reached below the desk to thread her fingers through her lover’s hair. “Ya enjoy that, lover?”

Brock grinned up at her, her tongue trailing up Cait’s slit before she spoke. “Very much so, and yourself?”

Cait laughed and pulled Brock up so that she could sit on Cait’s bare lap, a simple kiss answering the question for her. “Ya know, I was kinda half expectin’ ol’ Danse-y to realise I wasn’t wearin’ any pants.”

Brock giggled to herself and caught Cait’s lip gently between her teeth. “He probably would’ve died from embarrassment.”

Cait chuckled and kissed Brock’s lips once more. “Next time, _I’m_ eatin’ _you_ under that desk, love.”

“Speaking of our next time…” Both women locked gazes and grinned, already knowing who the other is thinking of. “Guess that exclusive for the _Publick Occurrences_ is happening after all.”

* * *

“You know, I’ve been asking you for another interview for _ages_ , Blue. What made you change your mind now?” The reporter asked after settling down in a chair on the other side of Brock’s desk. Piper snatched the pen from behind her ear, flicking her notepad open to the next blank page before looking up to the woman expectantly who sat behind the Minuteman General’s desk. The woman herself lounged back in the plush, slightly oversized chair dressed in the full General’s attire – hat, cloak and all – and seemed to think over her answer before replying.

“I figured I at least owed you a story for all the help you’ve given to the Minutemen’s cause. After all, you _did_ help me take down that Mirelurk Queen at the Castle.” Brock jolted slightly, like she’d been pinched, and Piper couldn’t help but notice the slight blush that rose on her cheeks. Cocking an eyebrow, the reporter proceeded to write down the date and time of their interview while simultaneously trying to remember her questions. Cait meanwhile, who was on her hands and knees under the General’s desk, had just leisurely licked her way up the General’s slit, flicking her tongue once she reached the bundle of nerves that made her lover’s body jolt. She grinned, peppering the inside of Brock’s bare thighs with light kisses.

“First thing’s first, for the readers back home who may have doubts or may have never even heard of you guys, explain to me what it is the Minutemen stand for now. What is the goal of the Minutemen now that you’re the most influential – an arguably most _powerful_ – faction in the Commonwealth?”

Hazel eyes flicked up to the General who had her hands carefully folded in front of her atop the massive wooden desk. She nodded and cleared her throat, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. “The Minutemen are the good guys again. We stand for the people of the Commonwealth, for safer, happier living for both people and synths alike and to achieve such throughout the entire Commonwealth is our ultimate goal. Murder, pillaging and slavery is not tolerated in the least, nor is the abuse of power over the people.”

As Piper was hurriedly jotting down the General’s words, Cait nudged Brock’s bare knees and spread her legs further, trailing her tongue up the sensitive skin on the inside of Brock’s thighs until her wet tongue met her lover’s glistening opening. Lips kissed and rubbed and spread moisture around the bundle of livened nerves before sucking gently, the flick of a wet tongue making Brock’s fingers dig further into her own skin. Piper glanced up from her work, a question in her hazel gaze, before she looked back down again and continued scrawling notes.

Brock wondered if she could get away with dropping one hand down to run through Cait’s glorious locks of red hair, but decided she probably couldn’t. If it were Danse or MacCready across from her, then maybe, but with Piper? Hardly anything gets past the nosy reporter, one of whom Brock has just realised has a very appealing set of lips that pursed while she concentrated. Brock shifted slightly at the thought, swallowing as Cait’s hands kept her legs spread and her tongue kept her clit stimulated. Finally, the reporter looked up again and launched into her next question. “What does the Minutemen get out of doing this? Surely there is some kind of pay-off right? I mean, there’s no denying that we all appreciate what it is you’re doing for the folk out there in the Commonwealth, but what do _you_ get in return?”

_Being ravished by my lover under a desk while talking to a reporter, never ending adoration, more caps than I’ll ever really need…OH!_

Cait bit her gently, meant to provoke an answer but instead it made her jolt again and almost groan aloud. Brock uneasily breathed a quiet laugh, blushing profusely as she tried to formulate an answer. “Uh…well we’re not in it for any kind of power play if that’s what you’re getting at.” Cait licked to soothe where she bit again, fingers digging harder into the warm flesh of Brock’s thighs.

“Who said anything about power?” Piper retorted, eyes slightly narrowed. Brock wanted to shift under that scrutinising gaze, but was held in place by Cait’s firm grasp.

“It’s no secret that a number of people liken us to the Brotherhood of Steel in regards to some kind of secret ambition to ‘take over the Commonwealth’ one settlement at a time, but I will point out the fact that the Minutemen consist of people just like you and me with the same ideals and values as everyone else just trying to make it in this world with a conscience. We want our friends and family safe from raiders and mutants and other monsters out there in the Commonwealth and even though we don’t _want_ to take lives, we’re not afraid of doing so if it means an innocent family is safe at night. We’re very tightly knit and I assure you that any foul play among our numbers is brought immediately to my attention or to that of my Lieutenant’s.”

“Lieutenant Garvey, right?” Piper asked, hand furiously writing. Brock wondered how that hand will feel _down there_ but snapped back to attention when Cait’s teeth gently seized her sensitive nub.

“Yes, that’s correct.” She replied in a strained voice, because Cait began to lick, her clit still gently caught between Cait’s teeth.

As the reporter looked down to write some more, Cait released her and Brock closed her eyes for a moment, biting her bottom lip as Cait’s tongue then started probing around her entrance, warm puffs of breath heating already hot flesh. Piper cleared her throat and Brock’s eyes snapped open to see the reporter watching her. “Is everything okay, Blue?”

“Yes, fine. I mean, _I’m_ fine.” She cleared her throat, leaning forward slightly. “How are you?”

Piper’s brow furrowed, eyes narrowing further as she replied slowly. “I’m…fine…?” She regarded the General for another few moments, pen tapping absently on the notepad with a thoughtful look on her face. “And what do you do with these troublemakers? The ones who go against the Minuteman code?”

“It depends on how serious the transgression is. If they’ve merely stolen an item or two, we’ll impose a minimum jail or service sentence of perhaps a few days, maybe a week or so at most – depending upon the circumstances of course. For murder however, there’s no telling what will happen then.” Brock shrugged her shoulders, fighting the urge to scoot her hips forward a bit more. “That fortunately hasn’t happened yet.”

Piper nodded along, flipping the page of her notepad to a fresh one. “And hypothetically, how would you imagine the Minutemen dealing with an unjustified killing?”

The warm tongue slowly entered her then, the tip of Cait’s nose brushing the underside of her clit that had her bite her lip to stifle a gasp. “I-I don’t know.” She cleared her throat, her belly tightening because that tongue found that _one damn spot_ that incessantly demanded her attention. Her fingers left marks in her arms from how hard she was trying to stay collected in front of the now suspicious reporter. “Most likely, we’ll leave it up to the people to decide.”

Piper scoffed, her eyes narrowed to evaluative slits. “Diplomacy will get you nowhere, _General_. I know firsthand what ‘leaving it up to the people’ means.” The reporter dropped her pad to the desk like a pre-war lawyer would with a folder full of precedent, even the challenging glint in her eyes were the same. “It means death. Like always.”

“How would _you_ have it then?” Brock challenged, her voice steady despite the trembling of her thighs because Cait just decided _now_ was a great time to ravenously lick at her like she was the finest tasting meal in the Commonwealth.

Piper straightened, rising to the challenge with a quick smirk of her lips. _Very nice lips_ , Brock noted, unintentionally imagining them on her and regretting it immediately because hole _shit_ she’s on _fire_ and every touch from Cait added a bit more fuel to the blaze than before.

“I’d at least expect a little something called due process, something I’m sure _you_ of all people are familiar with.” Piper retorted, gloved fingers tapping the table with no steady beat. Brock swallowed, shifting her hips further forward, offering more for Cait’s glorious mouth to claim. She didn’t have to wait long though, and had to close her eyes because Cait’s tongue entered her again but this time a little further inside than before thanks to her new angle.

“Yes, of course I’m familiar with it. But do you really expect the people to have patience with that? To have the capacity to fully understand how _exactly_ it is meant to work and then carry it out as such? Do _you_ understand how fragile and damn near impossible it will be to achieve a degree of impartiality in folk these days?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Piper shot back, her voice sharp. Meanwhile Brock’s orgasm was building, steadily driving her to the point of no return. Her breathing shallowed and her hips lifted against Cait’s greedy mouth, the General’s fingers now clawing at the tabletop. Interestingly however, the more aroused the grew the more invested in the argument she was.

“This world revolves around _lex talionis_ now, eye for an eye. People don’t give a rat’s ass for law and a fair go anymore. Chances are someone will kill them before we even gather the right type of people for a jury, and what about the judge?” Cait must’ve liked the aggressive, husky tone that Brock’s voice took because her mouth started working her harder, her tongue more incessant and greedy. Brock cleared her throat, willing her voice not to catch before proceeding. “Piper, what you’re asking for is premature. The right way to go about an unjustified killing is to leave it up to the people, a democratic type vote deciding both guilt _and_ punishment. Perhaps in a few years this issue may arise again and the circumstances may be significantly better, but for now, it simply will not work.”

Piper shook her head slowly, adjusting her gloves and breathing a deep sigh as Brock’s entire body stiffened. She leaned back in her chair, watching as the General covered her face with a hand, jaw clenched, eyes closed and lips set in a firm line. The reporter was going to ask if she was feeling alright, when suddenly realisation struck. Slowly she grinned and watched as Brock’s other hand clawed into the surface of her desk, the reporter having to cross one leg over the other because _holy crap_ that was hot. How had she not caught on sooner?

When Brock surfaced long moments later, finally drawing in a much need breath, her hand fell to the table and dark green eyes still filled with lust rose to meet Piper’s.

“You know, I feel sorry for your opponents before the war, Blue. You have one tough pokerface.” Brock breathed a ragged breath and cocked an eyebrow, shuddering only slightly from the warm tongue that continued to lap her up.

Piper meanwhile rose from her seat, tugged at the edges of her coat and snatched up her pen and notepad with a cheeky grin. “I’m even more impressed now, considering back then you probably wouldn’t have had – I’m guessing…Cait? – under your desk?”

Brock’s mouth fell open and Piper only winked, back peddling out the room quickly to... _reflect_ on her exclusive.

**Author's Note:**

> See you in the sinbin folks - hope you enjoyed!


End file.
